Keep Talking
by WinterStorrm
Summary: Sometimes all it takes is one conversation.


****Title:**** Keep Talking  
><strong>Pairings: <strong>Harry/Draco  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 2,689  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Mpreg  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>The characters depicted herein belong JK Rowling and associated publishers. I make no profit from this endeavour. **  
><strong>**Author's notes:** Thanks to singlemomsummer for the beta. Written for wizsprogs Winter fest.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Sometimes all it takes is one conversation.

"Daddy, why do you and Papa never talk?"

Harry stopped what he was doing and turned to face his son. Pax stared back at him unblinking, his huge green eyes wide and full of an innocent curiosity that spoke of his tender age.

Pax was four years old and had never seen him and Draco in the same room together for longer than the five minutes it took to drop him off at each other's houses. After that it had been solicitors and joint custody arrangements and terse owls making arrangements for Pax's accommodations.

"Come here," he said gently, patting his knee, and when Pax was close enough, he swept him onto his lap and rested his chin on top of his head of fine blond hair for a moment, taking a deep breath. He'd been dreading this moment, inevitable though it was. It wasn't an easy question to answer.

"Daddy and Papa don't get on very well, Pax," Harry said, thinking to himself 'bloody understatement' but that wasn't a story for a child's ears. A story of how he had, in a moment of weakness, let Draco Malfoy bend him over a desk and fuck his brains out in the middle of the bloody Battle of Hogwarts. He hadn't thought he'd live to see another day at that point, so what had any of it mattered? Fiendfyre and smoke and heady desire – Harry wouldn't die a virgin, not that that had been his motivation at the time, that had been pure spur of the moment out and out lust.

"Why?"

"We argue, Pax, that's all. And fight. But I loved Papa enough to make you, and neither Papa nor I regret that. We both love you very much."

That, at least, wasn't a lie, even the part about loving Draco; in that moment Harry would have given him everything. Instead he'd turned away and walked to his death. **ooo**

"Papa, why don't you love Daddy?"

Draco sat back on his haunches, halfway through tucking Pax into bed and looked down at his son, a child that looked so much like he had at that age that it was like looking at a photograph. Apart from the eyes, they were all Potter.

"Why do you ask that, baby?"

"Daddy said that you and he didn't get on but that he loved you enough to make me. Why don't you love him?"

Draco blinked. Love Harry? He'd never had the chance! He'd thought – well, he'd thought he was going to die if he was honest and Potter had been there, and suddenly it was like the whole rest of the world had faded away, and it had just been them, fighting, but then not fighting but kissing, and then not kissing but fucking, and it had been fast and painful and bloody amazing. They'd dropped forwards, heads together, breathing heavily and Draco had been full of something, everything – words, emotion, need, fear, love – but Harry had pulled away before he could formulate how he felt, and he'd walked away. Draco knew now he'd gone to the Forbidden Forest to face the Dark Lord.

He'd gone to die.

Draco had merely been the condemned man's last meal.

After the war, when Harry lived after all, Draco had thought that maybe now that it was all over he and Harry might start again. Instead, Harry had testified on his family's behalf at their trial and vanished before Draco could even catch his eye. When he'd owled Draco three months later, his hope had leapt, but it was a summons of sorts, and Draco had gone to Grimmauld Place, not sure what to expect, only to find Weasley and Granger and no sign of Harry.

"Harry's pregnant," Weasley said matter-of-factly, the expression on his face showing his disgust. "It's yours."

Draco had been stunned into silence and the next few words Granger had spoken had been a blur. He'd caught the end of, "…you'll find everything is to order."

A heavy scroll was handed to him by Granger and Draco stared down at it before looking straight back up at Weasley. "Wh- Pregnant?"

"Yes, Malfoy, surely it's a concept that even _you_ understand. Harry had sex with you – what the fuck he was thinking I'll never know – but anyway, now he's having a baby and you are the father. Would you like me to draw you a diagram?"

Despite all of the Malfoy's best lawyers being thrown at Harry he refused to meet with Draco, only conceding that he could be present at the birth because there was something in Wizarding law that stated he could not refuse Draco that. It had been a stressful time.

The scroll Granger had handed him that day had been to the effect that Harry would have custody and that Draco could visit every last Sunday of the month. Draco had fought back and won. They now they shared joint custody. Pax spent one week at the Manor and one week at Grimmauld Place and only saw him and Harry together for a few minutes every week when Harry would drop him off at the Manor or vice versa.

Of course, Pax was due to start primary school soon, and this arrangement wasn't going to work for much longer, but as neither of them had sought to address it yet, Draco was putting it off.

He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair off Pax's face. "I wanted to love Daddy," he said, knowing he was running the risk of this getting back to Harry as he continued, "But Daddy didn't want me to, and so I couldn't." He and Harry hadn't even had a conversation about what had happened between them that day!

"Why?"

"I don't know, Pax, I wish I did." **ooo**

Harry lost his balance and almost tripped head first out of the Floo. He was too angry to see straight. "Malfoy!" he almost shrieked. "Malfoy get your sneaky arse down here this instant!"

A house elf appeared in front him instantly. "Mister Potter is being quiet if you please, Master Malfoy has guest for dinner."

Unlucky for Draco then that they always kept their Floo open to the other for Pax's sake, just in case. Harry stormed past the elf. "Malfoy!" He stalked out of the room and followed his nose to where he suspected dinner was being served and pushed through a heavy door into an elegant pale blue dining room.

Malfoy was already on his feet, his face pale. "Has something happened to Pax?" he whispered, one hand clutching the back of a chair, his knuckles white.

Belatedly Harry realised that of course Draco would assume that something was wrong from Harry's presence, it was his week with Pax after all. Draco's guest's head was twisted to stare at him as well and Harry registered the olive skin and intense brown eyes of Zabini and pushed down the sudden jealousy. What the hell did he care who Malfoy had in his life as long as Pax was safe?

"No – Pax's fine. I'm sorry I scared you." He _was_ sorry too. He may not be involved in Draco's life other than their shared custody agreement of their son, but he knew how much Draco loved their child. It was evident in all of the photos that lined the walls, by the stories Pax told him about his time with his Papa and by the occasional picture of the two of them together that appeared in the papers.

Draco relaxed. "Then to what do I owe this unexpected visit, Potter? I do have a guest as you can see."

Harry ignored Zabini and said, "A guest who is leaving. Now."

"Now, look here, Potter," Draco spat, "You can't just barge in and-"

"It's alright, Draco," Zabini said. "I'll leave you two to sort out whatever is that's eating Potter and I'll owl you tomorrow, yes?"

Harry's kept his gaze fixed on Draco as Zabini left the room.

"Potter-"

"What have you been telling Pax?" he began as soon as it was just the two of them. "He asked me today why I didn't love you when you wanted me to!"

"Oh."

"Is that all you have to say, Malfoy? 'Oh'?"

"Well, what do you want me to say?"

"I was hoping for an explanation as to why my son now views me as the reason you and I are not together like all of his friend's and cousin's parents are!"

"Potter, you _are_ the reason. At least you're the reason why we don't have a civil friendship even for the sake of our son, because you refused to have anything to do with me!"

Draco's words hit him like a bludger. "You wanted that?" he found himself saying quietly an unpleasant feeling twisting in his gut. Draco stepped closer, removing the barrier of the table. "You never said."

"Exactly at what point was I supposed to say anything, Potter? You had Weasley and Granger inform me of my impending fatherhood, refused to see me throughout the pregnancy, and then only allowed into the birth because you had no choice – need I go on?"

"I didn't think you'd be interested in any of it," Harry said, and as the words left his lips he realised the truth of it and the feeling in his gut identified itself as guilt. He'd been so scared that Draco would laugh in his face at the news he was pregnant, that he wouldn't want to know, that when the reaction had been the opposite he'd already decided that Draco was only interested in the baby. Which of course he was, just Pax, not Harry.

What had happened between them was the result of a high stress situation, Draco hated him. He was meant to be dead, he'd _died_, and the whole time he'd been at King's Cross with Dumbledore, when his lifeless body lay on the ground before a hoard of Death Eaters, when Narcissa Malfoy pronounced him dead for the sake of her son – all that time – new life was sparking inside of him. He'd been set up to die and when it was all over, when they'd buried the dead and counted their losses, he'd never felt so low, so _used_.

When he'd found out he was pregnant it was a new start for him, but his self-worth took a long time to catch up. He wasn't certain it ever would, but he tried not to let it show, Pax deserved a father who could be the role model he'd never had. **ooo**

Draco watched the emotions contort Harry's face; saw there was some kind of epiphany as Harry groped around for a chair and sank into it with his head in his hands. He felt guilty then, even if he had spoken the truth – he'd waited long enough for the opportunity – he'd stopped seeking it out but now it was here…

"I can do that," Harry said so quietly that Draco had to step closer again and ask him to repeat himself. When he did, Draco dropped to a crouch in front of him. "I can be friendly."

"For the record," he said softly, his instincts responding to Harry's obvious distress. "At one time I had hoped for more than friends, but you soon showed me my place." He laughed bitterly and pushed back to his feet. Yes, he'd wanted it all. He hadn't known Harry, not really, but he'd wanted to try – at first for his own sake, then for their son's. Not Harry's boy-who-lived persona either, but the real man underneath; the one who died to save everyone despite the sacrifice to himself - the man who he had a son with, a son who adored Harry.

"At one time…" Harry mumbled. He stood up suddenly. "I have to go. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come."

Draco was on a roll though, like the Hogwarts Express leaving Kings Cross, nothing was stopping him and it seemed he wanted to torture himself with what could have been. "Do you think it was ever possible – that we might've been a family?" Suddenly, with Harry standing before him, delightfully rumpled in a check shirt and Muggle jeans, Draco wanted nothing more than to be a family with this man and their son. Not two separate families, but one.

"We'll never know, will we? I blew that chance." Harry backed towards the door, his expressive green eyes telling Draco everything his voice could not. Draco moved quickly, one hand snaking around Harry's wrist. Harry broke eye contact to stare down at their joined limbs before glancing back up again. "Malfoy, don't, please-"

Draco held Harry's gaze, reading the pleading expression and nodding, letting his wrist go. "I'll see you on Saturday, Harry. Send Pax my love," he said and watched with a hollow heart as Harry left the room, listening for the roar of the Floo as he left. When he heard it he slumped into the nearest chair and made desperate grab for his abandoned glass of wine to take a much needed swig.

Why did he feel like he'd blown his chance? **ooo**

"Hurry up, Pax, put your coat on," Harry coaxed gently as Pax sniffled his woe at having to leave. Not for Harry's sake, he knew Pax loved Draco, but because it meant leaving the dog behind. "We don't want to keep Papa waiting do we? He's probably missed you this week."

Pax stopped pouting. "'Kay," he said sombrely, letting Harry hand him his coat and stuffing his little arms inside. "Ready!"

Harry took his hand and turned them to the fireplace to Floo, where the dog sat on the hearth looking as forlorn as Pax did. The dog was fed up, Pax was fed up and Harry was fed up. Something had to change. "Come on, Winston, time for a walk!" He picked his wand from his pocket and Accioed Winston's lead, clipping it one-handed to his collar. Harry glanced at his son whose expression was one of confused excitement. When Harry caught his eye he said. "Come on; let's see if Papa wants to join us on a walk with the dog."

Pax's eyes almost burst out of his head at his words and Harry knew he was making the right decision. Not just for Pax for but for him too.

Draco's face produced an identical expression when the three of them, father, son and dog exited the Floo at Malfoy Manor. Pax immediately announced that, "Daddy wants you to come for a walk with us and Winston!" and flung himself at Draco.

"Po-Harry, what's going on?" Draco asked evenly, his expression betraying his calm as he rumpled Pax's hair absently. Pax took Winston's lead from Harry, muttering something about showing the dog his bedroom and skipped from the room, utterly oblivious his parents' tension.

"I meant what I said the other day. I want us to be friends." Draco's face fell slightly, the light in his eyes dimming. Harry hastened on, "You asked me if I thought it was possible that we might have been a family and I'd like to try and find out."

Harry thought this had to be the first time he'd seen Draco lost for words, but then, how much time had he actually spent with Draco anyway so how would he know how often the man was speechless?

He took a step closer and took Draco's hand. Staring into his eyes he said, "Friends first. If it turns into something else then…that's good too, but, yeah, friends?"

From the tingling in his hand as he touched Draco, Harry suspected that they would definitely move past friends if Draco said yes now. He deeply regretted how he'd behaved towards him. That was the past though; he'd had enough of hiding.

When Draco finally snapped out of the stunned silence he squeezed Harry's hand and said, "Yes. Pax would like that."

"And you, Draco, would you like that too?"

Draco ran the pad of his thumb over Harry's wrist where they were still joined. "No, Harry. I'd _love_ it."


End file.
